


Truth Usually Is

by fallintosanity (yopumpkinhead)



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Gen, Missing Scene, Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 09:30:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13074030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yopumpkinhead/pseuds/fallintosanity
Summary: Thor thought his brother was dead - but Loki is alive, well, and impersonating Odin. Thor wants to get his father back as soon as possible, but he still has questions for his brother.Missing scene fromThor: Ragnarok.





	Truth Usually Is

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CatalenaMara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatalenaMara/gifts).



> This fic is for the [Fandom Loves Puerto Rico](https://fandomlovespuertorico.dreamwidth.org/) fanworks auction, for the amazing CatalenaMara. Thank you so much for donating and for such a fun prompt to work with! I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Beta by the wonderful mlraven.

Loki led the way into the palace, his boots clicking on the marble floors with the measured, tense pace that was the only outward sign of his anger. Thor followed him, mind whirling, trying to piece together what had happened to Asgard - to his _father_ \- since the last time he’d been here.

He’d worried, during the years he’d spent wandering the Realms in search of the Infinity Gems and witnessing firsthand the effects of Odin’s - _no,_ he corrected himself, _Loki’s_ \- negligence. Worried that Frigga’s death had pushed Odin’s ancient mind past the breaking point. Worried that Odin had simply given up, after losing his wife and most of Asgard’s army to the dark elves. Worried that some deeper trickery was at play, and perhaps that should have been his first clue: _trickery_. Of _course_ it had been Loki, of _course_ this was Loki’s fault. Little had happened since Jotunheim that wasn’t.

But Loki had been dead, or so Thor had thought, and he still remembered holding him while he’d died. The way his body had shuddered as he fought to breathe past the gaping hole in his chest, the way the dark elves’ cursed magic crept up his skin. His cold stillness, when death had finally taken him. Thor had _mourned_ him, had _wept_ for him. He had no idea how Loki had perpetrated such a perfect illusion, but clearly he had, and had used it to usurp Odin and take over Asgard.

Abruptly Thor realized that they weren’t headed toward the dungeons, as he’d expected. Loki had passed that turn and gone instead to the hall which led to the royal family’s rooms. Thor lengthened his stride until he could grab his brother by the arm. “Where are we going?” he demanded. “You said you were taking me to Odin.”

“I _said_ ,” Loki said irritably, “that I knew where he was.”

“And where’s that?” Thor said. “You aren’t telling me you left him in his own room this whole time.”

“Of course not,” Loki snapped. He yanked his arm from Thor’s grip and stalked off. “I left him on Earth.”

“On _Earth?_ ” Thor said. He caught up to Loki again and grabbed him by the collar, shoving him against one of the pillars lining the hallway. Loki was doing that irritating thing where he just walked away and Thor needed him to _stop_ , to _listen_ , to answer Thor’s questions instead of dodging them. “You sent him to _Earth_?!”

“It seemed a safe enough place,” Loki said, his voice practically dripping innocent sweetness. He made no move to remove Thor’s hand from his collar, no attempt to slip free, his green eyes locking onto Thor’s. “Humans have such an _inexplicable fondness_ for family. So much so they’ve built gilded prisons where their elders can live out their lonely last days in coddled comfort.”

Thor couldn’t begin to unpack the emotions in Loki’s voice. His brother’s expression was that horribly bright empty smile, a sharp counterpoint to the saccharine harshness of his words. Gilded prisons... _His prison cell_ , Thor remembered suddenly. Thor hadn’t seen it until after Loki had smashed it to pieces, but if the debris was any indication, it had been furnished as nicely as any sitting room in the palace proper.

If you overlooked the fact that it was a prison cell.

“Revenge, then,” Thor said, because _of course_ it was revenge. With Loki, it was never anything but. “He imprisoned you for your crimes, so you returned the favor.”

Loki laughed, sharp and harsh. “Hardly,” he said, “though the… _poetic justice_ of it was certainly pleasant enough. No,” he continued, and shook his head. “You were too busy with your dreams of wandering the cosmos, of returning to Earth to woo your pretty human girl, of being a _hero_. You didn’t see how he’d fallen. How he was unable to go on, after Mot— after the dark elves.”

Thor frowned. Something had flashed in Loki’s eyes, dark and ugly, when he’d begun to say _Mother_. Guilt? He drew breath to ask about it when, fast as a striking snake, Loki’s hand whipped up, thumb digging into Thor’s palm and forcing his fingers open. He darted free and crossed the hall to open the doors to the royal family’s apartments. “Odin gave up,” Loki called back to Thor. “He was unable to rule, and he knew it as well as I did. I _saved_ Asgard by taking his place.”

Thor hurried to catch up; he wouldn’t put it past Loki to slam the doors on him and try to vanish behind an illusion. “If you were saving Asgard,” Thor said, “then why impersonate Odin? If he knew he was unable to rule, then why not have him formally assign you to the throne?”

Loki stopped so suddenly Thor nearly stepped on him, and whirled, green eyes poisonous with fury. Thor tensed, grip tightening on Mjölnir - but as abruptly as Loki had turned angry, he straightened, his expression smoothing over to calm. The smile he flashed at Thor, though, was just as sharp and deadly as his knives. “We all saw how well it went the last time _Loki_ sat on the throne,” he said, and smirked.

They’d reached the doors to Loki’s old rooms now, and before Thor could come up with a response to that, Loki flung open the doors and stalked inside. Thor followed him again, not sure what Loki was after, not willing to let his brother out of his sight until they’d found Odin. “Fine,” he said. “You thought you could do a better job of ruling than Father. Then why let everything fall to pieces?”

Loki had gone to the one of the massive windows that looked out over the city, and now he dropped down to sit on the cushions of the window seat. He stared out at the golden towers, silent for long enough that Thor almost thought he wasn’t going to answer. But the tightness of his mouth, the tension in his shoulders, suggested that he was wrestling with something. Thor gritted his teeth and made himself wait.

Finally, without looking away from the city, Loki spoke. His voice was quiet, solemn. “You dreamed of fire.”

“Ragnarok,” Thor answered, just as solemn. “It threatens Asgard. Our home.” He couldn’t resist adding, pointedly, “Because the king of Asgard has not been doing his job.”

Green eyes flicked to him, then back to the view out the window. “I did mention I’ve been meeting with my councilors and security guards,” he said dryly. “I’ve had dreams, too.”

“Of Ragnarok?”

Loki nodded. It was possible this was another trick, but Thor knew his brother: Loki was honestly concerned. He sat down on the other end of the window seat, watching Loki, though Loki still didn’t look at him. “I start it, you know,” Loki said, so quietly that Thor almost didn’t hear him. “According to the prophecy.”

Thor stared at him. “Loki, no,” he said. “Surtr is supposed to start Ragnarok, when he ‘reunites his crown with the Eternal Flame’ or some such nonsense. Which he can’t do, because I killed him and took his crown. You saw it,” he added, waving a hand back toward the courtyard. “It’s safe in Odin’s treasury now.”

Loki flicked him an annoyed look. “Surtr _ends_ Ragnarok,” he corrected. “But by the prophecy, it’s I who brings about Asgard’s downfall.”

“Fine,” Thor snapped. “So you’re going to start it. Is that why you sent Father to Earth? To get him out of the way so you can bring an end to Asgard?”

“ _I don’t want to bring an end to Asgard!_ ” Loki hissed. He slammed a fist into the side of the window, tense and clearly furious. “For better or worse - mostly worse - Asgard is the only home I’ve ever known. And it’s all that stands between the Nine Realms and the far greater dangers lurking beyond. Odin was clearly in no shape to handle that responsibility. So I’ve been doing it instead.”

Thor sighed. He’d heard this before - not this exact scenario, but it was what Loki always did. He grabbed for power that wasn’t his, then tried to justify it by claiming to be saving the very people he ground under his heel. He’d done it years ago after Jotunheim, he’d done it on Earth with the Tesseract, and Thor knew full well that the only reason he hadn’t done it with the Infinity Stone on Svartalfheim was because Kurse had stabbed him. This nonsense about trying to stop Ragnarok by taking Odin’s place, when in reality he’d done nothing but drink wine and bask in his own imagined glory, was just more of the same.

“If that’s what you want to believe,” Thor said. His voice came out tired, and he shook his head and pushed to his feet, storming across the room to avoid giving into the urge to punch his brother. “But it’s over, brother. Surtr’s dead, his crown locked away. Ragnarok can’t happen.”

Loki looked up at him, his expression unreadable. Thor added, “It’s time to end this charade. Take me to Father. If he’s recovered, then he can take back the throne and you won’t have to worry about Ragnarok any more.”

“And if not?” Loki asked, his voice as unreadable as his expression.

Thor winced; he’d been trying not to think about that. Odin had been Asgard’s heart, its pillar of strength, for so long that the thought that he might _not_ be well was physically painful. But it was also a fair one to consider. Even if Loki had been lying about his mental state - which, if Thor was honest with himself, was unlikely given his last encounter with the real Odin - years of exile on Earth, under Loki’s spell, may have done too much damage to reverse.

Trying to keep his voice calm, Thor said, “Then we’ll bring him home and care for him. We’re not mortals - we don’t abandon family to die, no matter how lost they are, no matter how comfortable the prison.”

He realized what he’d said - who he’d said it to - even as Loki looked away again. Before he could say anything else, though, Loki said softly, “Of course not. Not _family_.” He rolled off the window seat and stalked away, across the room toward the doors. “It’s a good thing I’m just _adopted_ , then, isn’t it?”

“Loki—!” Thor called, but Loki was through the doors and halfway down the hall, and Thor had to run after him. “Loki!” he said again, and tried to grab his brother’s arm. But his hand went straight through Loki’s flesh, gold flickering around the edges: an illusion.

“Damn it, Loki!” Thor snarled. “If you’re going to run off again, at least take me to Father first.”

Silence answered him, and he spun, senses straining, trying to figure out where Loki had gone. A shimmer of gold caught his eye and he turned to see Loki standing further up the hall. His green and black leathers were gone, replaced by a plain black Midgardian suit. Loki flashed him a bright smile. “Of course,” he purred. “You’d better dress for it, though.”

Rolling his eyes, Thor dismissed his armor, leaving only his leathers and cape. Loki eyed him, then raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What?” Thor demanded. “The mortals know who I am; I’ve no need for costumes.”

Loki’s turn to roll his eyes, hard enough that his whole head moved with it. “Of course,” he said again. “Thor Odinson will walk the streets of Midgard with the monster who once tried to destroy them. I’m sure we’ll have an easy time recovering Odin with all of Midgard’s armed forces dogging our steps.”

Thor glared at him, but it was a valid point. The Avengers were well-known on Midgard. Before Thor had left on his quest for the Infinity Stones, he’d been stopped often in the streets by curious mortals who wanted to thank him or shake his hand or even take pictures with him. As far as he knew, Loki’s face wasn’t nearly so well known, but seen alongside Thor might be too obvious to miss. “Fine,” he said, and spread his arms.

Then he remembered who he was talking to and warned, “Something _appropriate_ , brother.”

Already halfway through raising his hands to cast the illusion, Loki just snorted. But the illusory clothes that took shape atop Thor’s leathers were reasonable enough: jeans, a soft hooded shirt, and a jacket. Mjölnir, still hanging from his belt, had taken on the appearance of an umbrella, which was not what Thor would have chosen but considering the many other forms Loki could have given it, was acceptable.

Loki stalked off again while Thor was still looking over his new clothes, and yet again he had to run to catch up with him. At least they were actually headed for the Bifrost this time. He wouldn't put it past Loki to try yet another trick.

They had to pass through the outer terrace where Loki had been holding “court” in Odin's guise. Most of the courtiers had vanished now that the play and the subsequent excitement were over, but the soldier from the Bifrost - Skurge, Thor thought he'd called himself - still stood there, chatting with a pretty young councilor’s daughter. Loki snapped his fingers at Skurge as he passed, and ordered, “Fetch someone to attend us at the Bifrost.”

Skurge stared at him but didn't move, evidently confused by the combination of Loki’s Midgardian clothes and authoritative demeanor, and uncertain whether to obey. Thor caught his eye and jerked his head toward the palace. “Find one of the Warriors Three,” he said. “Volstagg is often at the training grounds this time of day.”

Skurge blinked, then finally seemed to realize who Thor and Loki were, and bowed hurriedly. “Yes, Highness.” He scuttled off, his armor clanking.

Loki shot Thor a pointed look, his green eyes acid with controlled anger. Thor remembered his words back in the palace: _We all saw how well it went the last time_ Loki _sat on the throne._ But this was just more of Loki's imagined slights: Skurge hadn't recognized them in Midgardian clothes. He hadn't deliberately ignored an order from a prince of Asgard.

Had he?

It didn't matter either way. They would go to Earth and rescue Odin, and then Odin could deal with those who didn't treat Loki like the prince of Asgard he was. Loki was moving again, and Thor hurried to catch up. They walked the rest of the way to the Bifrost in silence. Thor didn’t know what to say to his brother, and Loki seemed wholly preoccupied with his silent fuming.

They were nearly to the golden dome when something occurred to Thor. “What happened to Heimdall?” he asked.

“He was exiled,” Loki said, as lightly as if he’d said “at dinner” instead.

“I—yes, that soldier mentioned it,” Thor said, frustrated, “but why did you exile him? We should bring him back. The Bifrost is too dangerous to be left in the hands of a footsoldier.”

Loki’s green eyes slid to Thor and then away again; Thor wondered if he was remembering Jotunheim. But all Loki said was, “I didn’t exile him.”

“The soldier said—”

“Odin exiled him,” Loki interrupted. He stopped just outside the dome and leaned back against the golden curve of its wall, examining his fingernails with studious casualness. “Or more accurately, Odin imprisoned him with the intent of executing him, but Heimdall escaped. He was gone before I took the throne.”

“You’re lying,” Thor snapped. “Why would Father execute Heimdall?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Loki said, and finally looked Thor in the eye. “Perhaps because Heimdall committed high treason and drew steel against the King of Asgard?”

Thor blinked. He’d almost forgotten the chaos of their flight from Asgard to Svartalfheim, of Heimdall’s choice to defend their escape. “But…” he sputtered. “But he didn’t—”

“He did,” Loki said calmly. “It wasn’t his first offence, either. You may have been too busy thinking with the wrong head—” his eyes flickered down Thor’s body and then back up, smirking— “but Odin ordered _you_ exiled not that long ago. And while no one liked it, I was the rightful king when I reaffirmed that order. Heimdall ignored both of us and sent your friends down to fetch you back.”

“But—” Thor said again, then stopped. Because once again Loki had a point, damn him. It hadn’t ever been brought up because Thor had been too glad just to be home again, and everyone else had been too busy dealing with the aftermath of the Bifrost breaking and Loki falling into the void, but it _had_ been Odin who’d decreed Thor’s banishment, and Loki _had_ been the rightful king by succession when he’d repeated it. By law, Heimdall should never have aided Sif and the Warriors Three in rescuing Thor from Earth.

Loki watched Thor struggle for words for a minute, his expression unreadable. Finally Thor managed, “But Father knows better! Heimdall watches the Bifrost because of his Sight. No one else in the Realms can do what he does.”

“He _should_ know better, don't you think?” Loki agreed flatly.

Thor stared at him, hating what Loki was implying: that Odin really had begun losing his wit, his sense - and with it, the ability to rule. Guilt stabbed Thor, sudden as his brother's knives. If he'd been here, if he hadn't gone running off to Earth, he’d have been able to do something about it. Help Odin, or take the throne himself, as much as the idea of doing so was still abhorrent. Yet if Thor hadn't left, hadn't learned of the Infinity Stones on Earth and the looming threat of Ragnarok while he searched for them, Asgard would still be in danger.

He had his mouth open to say something, to refute Loki's silent implication, to protest that Thor had done what he’d thought best at the time, when movement on the Bifrost caught his attention. Volstagg, with Fandral beside him and Skurge trailing uncertainly behind.

Volstagg grinned as he approached Thor, extending his arm so they could clasp wrists. “Thor!” he exclaimed. “It's been far too long!”

“Aye,” Fandral added as Thor turned to him. “We were like to think you’d abandoned us for your mortal friends.”

“Never,” Thor promised. “My friends, I have so much to tell you, but first my brother and I must retrieve our father from Midgard.”

They looked past Thor in surprise, apparently noticing Loki for the first time. He gave them a flippant little toss of his fingers and an empty, dangerous smile. “Hi.”

“Loki?” Fandral said blankly. “We thought you were dead.”

“I was,” Loki said, and pushed off the side of the dome to stride inside. “It didn't agree with me.”

Volstagg snorted. They followed Loki into the great golden dome, still covered with the viscera of Surtr’s giant serpent, its head a gruesome trophy in the middle of the floor. Loki eyed it with obvious disgust, then gestured to Skurge. “Clean this up. We can't have the Allfather’s homecoming be…” He wrinkled his nose. “Sticky.”

“Yes, your maje— uh, your highness.” Skurge ducked his head in a bow and scurried off, presumably to find a mop.

Thor motioned Volstagg to the center dais, where the great sword stood shining in the starlight. “Stay close,” he said. “This shouldn't take long.” Then, with a pointed glance at Loki, added, “Will it, brother?”

Loki flashed that bright empty smile. “Of course not, _brother.”_ To Volstagg, he said, “St. Nicholas's Retirement Home, New York, if you please.”

Volstagg nodded acknowledgement and grasped the sword. Thor turned to the portal, Loki at his side. They would go to New York, find Odin, and bring him home. He would be fine, perhaps even in better health for having had the break. He’d take his rightful place on the throne, and praise Thor for preventing Ragnarok and rescuing him. They would decide what to do about Loki, because this had long since gotten old, this cycle of betrayal and attempted trust and betrayal yet again.

Loki glanced sideways at him then, as if he'd heard Thor’s thoughts, although his green eyes were as inscrutable as ever. Before either of them could speak, though, the Bifrost opened, sucking them away to Earth. Thor looked ahead, to where Odin waited in New York. They would find him, and bring him home.

And everything would be all right.


End file.
